


Love, Leather, and Family

by Cobrilee



Series: A Very Sterek Christmas [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Minor Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles and his dad go shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sheriff isn't crazy about his son dating former wanted murderer Derek Hale. But it's Christmas, and Derek is family now, sort of. Efforts are made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Leather, and Family

**Author's Note:**

> This one is more Stiles and his dad than it is Sterek, but they have a moment in the end. This will also have an in-series sequel, again, hopefully to be released tomorrow. *crosses fingers*

Stiles stood at the top of the stairs, listening to the conversation in his living room with a mixture of amusement and horror.

“What the hell am I supposed to do, Melissa? I have no idea what to get him.”

“Have you tried asking him what he likes?” The tone was practical; classic Melissa.

“How am I supposed to do that? He bypasses the front door, just like Scott always does, and when I _do_ see him, he barely says three words at a time.” There was a sigh, and Stiles could imagine his father swiping a frustrated hand over the top of his head. “I mean, a month ago I didn’t even know Stiles was interested in guys, now he’s dating Derek freaking Hale. Nobody prepared me for buying my son’s broody boyfriend a Christmas gift.”

Stiles was tempted to interrupt, to _beg_ him to stop talking about it, but Melissa intervened.

“Maybe you should, I don’t know, _ask your son_ ,” she said with a delicate snort. “I’m pretty sure he’d have some good ideas. He’s the one actually dating Derek, after all.”

Stiles shook his head. No. God, no. He was having a hard enough time coming up with an idea himself, there was no way he’d hand off one of those prized thoughts to his dad and let him take the credit.

“Stiles and I don’t really talk about, y’know…”

“His boyfriend?” Another snort. “John, don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable with your son dating a guy.”

“Of course I’m not!” Good, he sounded offended. Stiles knew his dad was really understanding, but he _had_ been a little concerned that there was some latent homophobia or something like that underneath his hesitance to accept Derek. “I’m not uncomfortable with him dating a guy. I’m uncomfortable with him dating a _man_. Derek Hale is way too old for him. And way too dangerous. And frankly, he’s kind of a dick.”

Stiles had to slap a hand over his mouth to stifle a burst of laughter. He was right, mostly. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard his dad use that particular terminology about _anyone_. It was interesting, getting to hear his non-filtered-for-his-teenaged-son thoughts. Which, really, he shouldn’t even be listening to, but he didn’t feel a smidge guilty. This was _his_ relationship his dad was talking about, after all. 

“John.” Melissa sighed. “Our kids are part of a very dangerous world, and maybe you should think about the fact that Derek is qualified to _protect_ Stiles in a way most of the other kids aren’t. It’s a _good_ thing that Stiles has someone so capable in his life who loves him, and would probably lay his life down to keep him from getting hurt.”

Okay, now _that_ made Stiles uncomfortable. It wasn’t like he didn’t realize it was true, but he hated the idea that Derek would ever have to make a choice between Stiles’ life and his own, because Stiles had no doubt he’d win in that scenario. And he was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to. 

“And as for Derek being too old for him, they’re six years apart. If I recall correctly, you were eight years older than Claudia,” Melissa pointed out smugly.

“Claudia wasn’t sixteen when we met!” John retorted.

“They may have met when Stiles was sixteen, but he’s not sixteen anymore, John. He’s an adult, at least legally. He has the best head on his shoulders of all of our kids, and you know it. Give him a little credit for making good decisions and don’t be so hard on Derek.”

Another long, drawn-out sigh. “Do you remember he had a warrant out on him for _murder_?”

Stiles scowled indignantly. That was _so_ not fair of him to bring up.

“And do _you_ remember those murders were actually committed by his uncle?” Melissa countered. “Derek was innocent.”

Stiles mentally cheered. _You tell him, Melissa!_

“He’s not innocent of everything,” his dad grumbled, but the tone was defeated and Stiles knew this round of Defending Derek had come to an end.

“None of them are,” she reminded him, gently. There was a lull in the conversation, and then, casually, “What about having him over for dinner on Christmas?”

“What? No,” he protested, and Stiles scowled again.

“Come on, John. The poor kid doesn’t have a family of his own and I think it would mean a lot for you to share your family Christmas with him.”

The sheriff scoffed. “ _Kid_? Hardly. Derek Hale isn’t a kid, he’s a grown man who’s attached himself to my eighteen-year-old son like a leech. He’ll be fine.”

“John.” That was her only response, a single word, but the tone of her voice expressed her displeasure. Stiles easily imagined it being accompanied by The Look, which was confirmed a moment later when his dad groaned.

“Fine. I’ll tell Stiles to invite him for Christmas dinner.”

“And be _nice_ to him. Talk to him. Try to get to know him. Unless I miss my guess, the way those two look at each other means Derek Hale is going to be a part of your life for a long, long time.”

Stiles’ grin was bright enough to light half the town. He hoped Melissa was right.

“STILES!”

He jumped, nearly falling down the stairs, but paused for a moment before jogging down them, affecting a careless expression. Sticking his head in the living room, he nodded at Melissa with his chin before looking at his father. “What’s up, Pops?”

“We’re going Christmas shopping.”

“Now? I have plans…” He trailed off at his father’s glower. “To go Christmas shopping. With you.”

The sheriff stood, grabbing his wallet and sliding it in his back pocket. “Let’s go.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” He glanced over at Melissa, who was smiling. “Bye, Melissa. It was good to see you for two point five seconds.”

She laughed. “Have fun shopping,” she sing-songed, waving them off, and Stiles knew the true meaning of dread.

llll

“What about this one?”

Stiles glanced over from the pair of sneakers he was studying and winced at the truly hideous reindeer-covered sweater his father was holding up. “Dad. No. Please, for the love of the tiny baby Jesus we are theoretically celebrating, no. Give up on the sweater idea. It’s clearly not working for you.”

Stuffing the sweater back on the rack in irritation, John huffed out an impatient breath. “Well then, if I’m doing so horribly at this, why don’t you _help_ me?”

Brightening, Stiles looked over and grinned slyly. “He’s been wanting the new Black Ops 3 game,” he suggested.

John raised one eyebrow. “You mean the game you were begging me for two weeks ago?” he asked sternly, and Stiles smiled sheepishly.

“Um, we wanted to play it together?”

“No, Stiles.” John flipped through a couple more racks, pulling out a t-shirt with a wolf howling at the moon. Stiles groaned. 

“Look, why don’t you just go look at the leather store? He likes leather.” His father looked at him in horror, and Stiles stared back in confusion until he understood the direction his father’s thoughts had taken. “Oh my _God_ , dad, I meant jackets! He likes leather jackets!” He scrubbed at his face. “I’m going to need bleach to erase the image of you thinking _those_ images from my brain.”

John shuddered. “You’re not the only one.” He paused, willfully forcing his brain to a new topic. “Would he really like a new jacket, though? I thought he was pretty attached to the old one.”

Stiles shrugged. “He is, but it’s pretty much ready for the old cows’ retirement home at this point. It’s a shredded mess.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?” John asked in exasperation. “We could have gone there an hour ago and saved my sanity.”

Stiles smirked. “Have you seen the prices there?”

Five minutes later, as John winced while reading the tag on one of their nicer jackets, Stiles refrained from gloating. “If I buy him this, you don’t get to eat next month.”

“Yeah, but I’ll get to see him in _this_ ,” Stiles murmured appreciatively, his eyes going wide at the image in his head of Derek wrapped up in the sumptuous jacket. “And then _not_ in it.”

John groaned. “Stiles. There are some things I don’t need to hear, okay?”

“Sorry, Pops.” He pulled out another jacket, simpler, but still sleek and buttery. Checking the tag, he passed it over. “This one means I only have to go without food for two weeks.”

A saleswoman passing by overheard the exchange and cast a startled look at Stiles. “We have a sale rack,” she said helpfully, pointing them toward the back of the store, and John mouthed ‘thank you’ at her before weaving his way through the crowded store. 

Stiles spotted the perfect jacket but as he reached for it, another hand fell on it. When he glanced up, ready to defend his right to it, he saw that his father had had the same idea he did. Smiling, he lifted it off the rack. It was a soft, smoky black, with inky black and burgundy chevrons running from wrist to elbow. The trim was the same dark black as the chevrons and it ran around the bottom edge of the jacket, up both sides of the front zipper, and across the pocket flaps. The final detail was a half-dozen stripes on both sides of the front placket with large metal buttons on the ends, taking it from just a basic jacket to something with style. Stiles loved it instantly.

Hesitantly, he lifted the price tag. He was afraid to see what it said, because despite being on the sale rack, he just _knew_ it would still be too expensive. Before he could open his eyes and look at it, though, the jacket was being tugged from his grasp and John checked the tag himself. Stiles could see the indecision on his face before he finally turned and headed for the register.

“Dad! Really? How much is it? I know it’s too expensive, don’t feel like you have to break the bank to get my boyfriend the perfect gift,” Stiles insisted, afraid his father was going to spend more than he could afford just because he could see how much he loved it.

“Don’t worry, you’ll still be able to eat next month,” John replied, a slight smile curving his lips. When the total came up Stiles blinked; it was less than he thought it would be, but it was still a lot of money. Turning a beaming smile on his dad, he threw his arms around him and squeezed. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled into his father’s shoulder, and the sheriff patted his upper arm affectionately. “I know you’re not crazy about me and Derek being together, but it means a lot to me that you’re trying anyway.”

“Why do you think I’m doing this?” John asked wryly as one clerk bagged the jacket while the other ran his card. 

“Because you’re the best dad in the whole wide world?”

John snorted. “You can stop sucking up, Stiles. It’s already paid for.”

Stiles grinned brightly. “Maybe I’m sucking up because there’s a GameStop right across the hall…”

“You’re pushing your luck.”

“Noted.”

lllll

“Your dad got me a gift?”

It was two days before Christmas and Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. He beamed, handing the heavy package over to Derek, who stared at it in surprise.

“Because you’re mine now, so that means you’re his too, sort of, only not in a creepy way, more like a, ‘you’re part of the family now’ way, except that’s sort of creepy, too-”

“Stiles.” The sharply-spoken word was accompanied by an amused sigh. “I get it. It was nice of him. It just feels weird.”

“Seriously, Der, he’s trying. He might not be crazy about the idea of us, y’know, being together, but he knows you make me happy and he wants to make an effort.” Stiles sat back, anxiously waiting for Derek to rip into the present that he had yet to do more than hold. “Well? Are you going to open it?”

Derek’s slow, methodical removal of the wrapping paper nearly drove Stiles insane. He glanced up, smirking when he saw Stiles practically vibrating from anticipation. “How much coffee did you have today?”

“Like three cups. OPEN IT!”

Instead, he leaned over and slid his lips softly against Stiles’, grinning into the kiss when he felt Stiles relax and slump against him, his hands clutching at Derek’s shoulders. He lingered for a few moments, nipping gently at Stiles’ lips, and by the time he pulled back all Stiles could do was blink.

“Why’d you stop?” he nearly whined.

Derek laughed. “I thought you wanted me to finish opening this,” he teased, and Stiles looked at it as if he couldn’t remember what a present was. Chuckling, Derek finished stripping the paper off the sturdy, high-quality cardboard box. His eyebrow quirked when he recognized the name on it. “Siegels? Shit, Stiles, please tell me your dad didn’t blow his whole paycheck on a gift for me.”

“There was some bargaining over my grocery budget,” Stiles admitted, but his eyes were twinkling. “Open it.”

Derek lifted the lid and his eyes widened. Lifting the jacket out of the box, he shook it out and held it up. “Stiles…”

“It’s amazing, right?” Stiles asked, leaning in eagerly to stroke his fingertips over the sleeve. 

“It is,” Derek replied softly. “Thank you, Stiles. And your dad.”

“Put it on!”

Derek stood up and shrugged into the jacket, and Stiles nearly drooled at the sheer sexiness of the man in front of him. He stood himself and stepped into Derek’s space, nuzzling his nose against the softness of the jacket when Derek wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into his embrace. Stiles’ face pressed against Derek’s chest and he inhaled the rich scent of the leather, sighing happily.

“You’re killing me,” Derek said roughly, his voice obviously strained. “Your dad is right downstairs.”

“We’ll head back to the loft soon,” Stiles promised. “But you need to go downstairs and thank him in person.”

Derek gave him a wide-eyed stare, clearly terrified, and Stiles laughed. “Maybe now isn’t the best time to tell you he’d like you to come have Christmas dinner with us?”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, you love me.”

“Maybe.” Derek smiled a little, and Stiles’ heart stuttered. It still stunned him to realize that _Derek freaking Hale_ actually loved him. Like, _loved_ him. He wasn’t sure how or when that had happened, but it was for damn sure he wasn’t going to let go without a fight.

“You better get used to the family stuff,” Stiles warned him, trying to keep his tone easy. “You’re part of us now, and we’re not letting you get away.”

“That should scare me, because it’s oddly threatening.” Derek gave him a half-smile. “But it’s coming from you, so I get it.”

“Okay, so, time to face one of your fears. You have to actually go talk to my dad.”

“You know I meant it when I said I hate you, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, scaredy-wolf.”

“Shut it, Stilinski.”

Stiles grinned. Yep. Derek Hale really loved him.


End file.
